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NOV 89 1898 






AN EARLY GARNERING 



BY 



WILLIAM J. STACK 



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PRESS OF E. A. COOK, 
Santa Cruz, Cal. 



;S33 



19676 



COPYRIGHT. 1898 

BY 

WILLIAM J- STACK 

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CONTENTS 

To Santa Cruz i 

The Orphans' Christmas .... 3 

a song of the sea 5 

a dream of '61 7 

A Winter Storm in Santa Cruz . . 9 

Solitude 12 

Memory 13 

Some day is 

Gone! 16 

The Exile 17 

A Walk with the Dead .... 18 

A QUERY ........ 19 

The Complaint of the aged ... 21 

Dead Summer 23 

Regrets 2s 

Sonnet— to M. B 26 

The little gray Bird 27 

The River 28 

The Face at the attic Window . . 29 

autumn . . 31 

The Outcast 32 

"Thy Will be Done" 33 

Wandering 34 

December 36 

October 37 

at the Portals 39 

beneath the ocean wave .... 41 



CONTENTS 

My Star 43 

my picture 44 

drifting with the tide .... 45 

TO G. S. F 46 

A Remembrance 48 

THE SOUTH WIND .*.... 49 

FALLING LEAVES 51 

HOPE 53 

A SEA SONG 54 

NIGHT 56 

THE VESPER BELLS 57 

A WINTER NIGHT 58 



Jo my Mother and the whole-souled women 
who have been my Benefactresses, this, my first 
effort, is gratefully inscribed. 

W. J. S. 



TO SANTA CRUZ. 

O, Santa Cruz, thou rose-crowned gem, 

Thou queen beside the sea, 
Where'er 1 go in days to come, 

I'll ever think of thee. 

Thou sitteth on thy mountain throne, 

And at thy feet the bay, 
With blue and purple waters bright, 

The lovely Monterey. 

My feet may touch on other shores, 

My home be far away, 
But in my thoughts thou e'er wilt be, 

The queen of Monterey. 

When long ago came holy men 

With cross and rosary, 
To plant the cross, Redemption's sign, 

Beside the lonely sea. 

No friendly voice to welcome them, 

No friendly face to meet, 
No pathway through the wilderness 

To guide their weary feet. 



TO SANTA CRUZ 

And here they laid them down to sleep, 

Beside the mission white; 
The city of the Holy Cross 

Keeps guard o'er them tonight. 

Then guard them well, O city fair, 

Beside the shining bay. 
Keep well thy trust, O Santa Cruz, 

Thou queen of Monterey. 

And now in robes of beauteous Spring, 
No queen more fair than thee 

The city of the Holy Cross 
Rose crowned beside the sea. 

Live on in beauty evermore, 

Beside the shining bay, 
A reign of peace I wish to thee, 

Thou queen of Monterey ! 



THE ORPHANS' CHRISTMAS 

The wind swept by with moan and sigh 
The world was cold and white, 

Three little children sat alone 
And talked of Christmas night. 

"It was so long, so long ago," 

Said one with golden head, 
"We must have lived a hundred years 

Since mother dear was dead. 

"Now, sister, you remember best, 

It was so long ago, 
You know the stars were shining bright, 

And the ground was white with snow. 

"We sat about the fire, you know, 

Beneath a Christmas tree, 
And mamma told us all about 

The babe of Gallilee. 

"In all the great big city there 

No place for Him to stay, 
And so they laid Him down to sleep 

In a manger on some hay. 
3 



THE ORPHANS' CHRISTMAS 

"And angels hovered over Him, 

And kings came from afar. 
And shepherds left their flocks alone, 

And were guided by a star. 

"And then she kissed us, too, you know, 

And wrapped us up in bed, 
And in the morning people came 

And told us she was dead. 

"And she's been gone so very long, 
And you know she went at night, 

The snow was lying everywhere 
So soft, so still and white. 

"Perhaps she went to see the babe, 

Asleep upon the hay, 
Perhaps she will come back tonight, 

For tomorrow's Christmas day." 

They hung their little stockings up, 
Just where mamma might see; 

And said "She will remember that 
The baby's now makes three." 

And in the morning they were found, 

All cold and still and white. 
It was the happy Christmas day 

For the angels came that night. 



A SONG OF THE SEA 

Out of the heart of the waters, 

In to the rough, rocky shore, 
Singing the song of the ocean 

Heard 'neath the deep, sullen roar; 
Song of the nymphs and the mermaids, 

Sung 'neath the pink coral tree, 
Listen ! the billows are singing 

Carols from under the sea, 
Hearken — the wild waves are sweetly 

Singing a song of the sea. 

Deep in the heart of the ocean, 

Over a watery tomb, 
Mermaids and naiads are mourning 

Many a mariner's doom, 
Who o'er the purple deep sailing, 

With his beloved to be, 
Sank, and the waters swept o'er him, 

Chanting a dirge of the sea. 
Listen — from ocean caves gloomy 

Echoes the dirge of the sea. 

5 



A SONG OF THE SEA 

Over the rollicking billows, 

Speeding her silv'ry way home, 
Cutting the pathway to harbor 

Over the opaline foam; 
Homeward the proud, white ship steering, 

Voices loud ringing in glee, 
Sailor lads gladly returning, 

Hark to the song of the sea, 
Welcome are minstrels of ocean 
Singing the song of the sea. 



A DREAM OF '6i 

I have travelled far back in a vision, 

To the times when rebellion and strife 
Swept over the land like a whirlwind, 

And threatened this fair nation's life, 
When the bugle and trumpet went sounding 

Afar through the North and the West, 
And the brave, sturdy sons of the nation 

Marched forth for the land they loved best. 

When in every hamlet and village 

Was heard the clear roll of the drum, 
And the voice of Columbia calling 

For her sons to hasten and come. 
For treason, red-handed, ran riot, 

And threatened, with insolent hand, 
To crush out the life of our country, 

And sweep with destruction the land. 

And the flag of our country went flying, 

Far from the north to the sea, 
Borne afloat by the noblest and bravest, 

Who died this fair land to keep free, 

7 



A DREAM OF '61 

And again the trumpet is sounding, 
And I hear the low roll of the drum, 

Again is Columbia calling 

For all her brave children to come. 

But there's grief in the call of the bugle, 

And a wail in the roll of the drum; 
And with footsteps heavy and weary, 

They answer the summons to come. 
With the flag that they love draped in moumin; 

And with flowers to garland the grave, 
I hear the slow, steady tramping 

Of the few that are left of the brave. 



A WINTER STORM IN SANTA CRUZ 

The morning dawned in flaming red, 
Reaching the blue sky overhead, 
Then broke into long crimson bars 
Like the red trail of bloody Mars. 
The sun came up with lurid glare, 
Flashed on the purple everywhere, 
And swept a yellow glance along 
The crimson bordered horizon. 

Louder and louder through the day 
Rose the dull thunder of the bay, 
That higher swept upon the shore, 
And climbed the rocks with angry roar, 
The sky, now changed to weeping gray, 
Swung low its mantle o'er the bay. 
The river that was but a brook, 
Assumed a sullen, angry look, 
And lashed the sand from bank to bank, 
And surged through willows tall and rank, 
And swelled and swirled in fiendish glee 
In a maddened race down to the sea. 
And so the night came on apace, 
The storm the winner in the race. 
9 



io A WINTER STORM IN SANTA CRUZ 

All through the night came drip and dash 
Against the door and window sash. 
The morning came. The storm still hurled 
It's fury on a weeping world; 
Not like the North, who robes his bride 
In shimm'ring garments by his side, 
But dark and sodden, brown and bare, 
All wet and dripping everywhere. 
The wind came sweeping from the seas 
And sighed and moaned among the trees; 
And found its way, so wild and free, 
Down chimney throats in fiendish glee, 
Still through it all was heard the rain 
Against the door and window pane. 
Far inland soared the sea-gulls gray, 
Through driving clouds of mist and spray, 
From ramp and roar of the angry bay. 
So close down another day. 

All through the night with might and main 
On dripping earth down poured the rain. 
The wind came sighing 'neath the eaves, 
Like a lone child that sobs and grieves, 
Then died away in a weary wail 
That's swept along by the maddened gale. 

The storm has lost its furious might 
And quiets down by morning light. 



A WINTER STORM IN SANTA CRUZ u 

The sun looked on a world serene 
And pine and fir in shining green, 
The sighing breeze the rose caressed 
And shook the rain drops from her breast. 
The birds sang out a roundelay, 
A chorus sweet of songsters gay. 
The storm is o'er — the morning fair, 
And smiling beauty everywhere; 
Thus winter skies bend over me 
In Santa Cruz beside the sea. 



SOLITUDE 

The night has donned her purple robes, 
The stars hang smiling in the sky, 

All's still, save drowsy katydid, 
Or startled night-bird's plaintive cry. 

Far down beside the sobbing sea, 
The noisy town has sunk to sleep, 

And darkly lined against the hills, 

The whisp'ring pines their vigils keep. 

The dreamy night holds beauty rare; 

The garish sun has failed to find 
The sweet, low murm'ring of the trees; 

The far-off sighing of the wind. 

The shining vault of bending blue 

With bright forms shines from zone to zone, 

Has charms that fill with estacy 
The soul that loves to walk alone. 
12 



MHMORY 

Beneath the smiling skies of June 
With mottled moss beneath my feet, 

And waving branches overhead, 

The silver moon looks fair and sweet. 

And resting here beneath the trees, 
With all the world in sweet repose, 

Mem'ry along life's rugged path 

Like lightning's flash now backward goes. 

To where my eyes first saw the light 
Of earthly joy and earthly care, 

When ev'ry day brought new delight, 
And all the world was sweet and fair. 

Adown the rose-strewn path of youth 
My childish feet danced gaily on; 

The world to me held naught but truth 
And all things fair to look upon. 

The world has changed and so have I, 
And all my dreams of life are o'er, 

And youth's gay ship is stranded high 
Upon a barren, rocky shore. 
13 



14 MEMORY 

And through the branches overhead 
I catch a gleam of heav'nly blue, 

That falls along the path I tread, 
The only thing in life that's true. 

And far beyond the trees 1 hear 
A voice so lovely, low and sweet: 

"O weary soul, trust you the Lord 
And rest you at the Saviour's feet. 



SOME DAY 

Some day the mists will clear away, 

Some day the sun will shine, 
And hearts, now filled with grief and woe, 

Will find sweet peace divine. 

Some day the rose will bloom again 

Upon the withered tree, 
And where the snow so softly lies 

Will scented violets be. 

The earth that sleeps so cold and still 

Beneath her robes of white, 
Will wake into the smiles of Spring, 

Like morning after night. 

Some day we'll see as we are seen, 

And know as we are known, 
This earthly veil be rent away 

Before the Saviour's throne. 

J 5 



GONE ! 

With white sails proudly swelling 

The ship sailed out to sea, 
Upon the shining waters, 

Away from land and me. 

I watched her slowly fading 

In evening's misty light, 
Till lost in ocean's darkness 

And wrapped in the gloom of night. 

The stars came, softly shining 

Upon the purple sea; 
The wind swept o'er the water 

A last farewell to me. 
16 



THE EXILE 

Oh ! land beside the sobbing sea, 

My native land, my own, 
With heavy heart I turn from thee 

To wander on alone. 

The tears have screened thee from my sight, 

As, with a swelling sail, 
The grand ship bears me out from thee 

My own beloved vale. 

Oh ! other lands may be as fair, 

And other skies as bright, 
But thoughts like these drive not despair 

From out my heart tonight. 

Oh ! star-gemmed vale beside the sea, 

My only wealth, I claim, 
Thy soil for my nativity, 

The right to bless thy name. 
17 



A WALK WITH THE DEAD 

I slept, and sleeping, walked alone 

Among the silent dead, 
With ne'er a ray of moonlight bright, 

Or glimm'ring star o'erhead. 

Down mouldy steps in vaulted tombs, 

With gliding, noiseless tread, 
All wrapped in folds of misty shrouds, 

Beside me walked the dead. 

No zephyr fanned my pallid cheek, 

Or stirred the murky air, 
But a deathly calm that chilled my heart 

Had reigned forever there. 

On either side were caskets piled, 

Piled high this piace within, 
And fleshless skulls made my blood run cold 

With their phosphorescent grin. 

And on we walked through Death's abode, 

Of light we had no gleam. 
In agony of fright 1 woke, thanked God 

That it was but a dream. 



A QUERY 

In this broad world of shade and shine, 

Of mountains clothed in green, 
Of rivers wide, of sweeping plains, 

Where cities lie between; 
Of rugged rocks whose giant forms 

Pierce through their crowns of mist, 
Their bases lit with dragon flowers 

By sighing south winds kissed. 

Of roaring rivers rushing down 

In mad haste to the sea, 
In quiet town or city's din, 

Is there a place for me ? 
What book lies open for my hand 

To turn it's white leaves o'er ? 
What ships stand out, with swelling sails, 

To bear me to what shore ? 

Or on the ocean's foiling breast, 

Or on the quiet land, 
Or in the battle's serried ranks, 

Where shall I take my stand ? 
19 



20 A QUERY 

Where shall I sleep when life is o'er ? 

Beneath the ocean's breast ? 
Or violet bank, or marble shaft 

Point out my place of rest ? 



It matters not what I shall do, 
Or where my home shall be, 

If Thou, O Lord, my feet will guide, 
All will be well with me. 



THE COMPLAINT OF THE AGED 

The world was fair when I was young, 
The roses seemed more sweet, 

The linnet sang a sweeter song 
Within her wild retreat. 

The flow'rs were fair when I was young, 

The grass of softer green, 
The catkins wore a brighter dress, 

The leaves a darker sheen. 

The stars were fair when 1 was young, 

The sky a deeper blue; 
The friends I made in those fair days 

To me were staunch and true. 

And hopes were high when I was young, 
My heart was light and gay, 

Life's pathway was as bright to me 
As flow'rs that bloom in May. 

The world is false, now 1 am old, 

And dark and full of care; 
The friends I knew are scattered now, 

God only knoweth where. 
21 



22 THE COMPLAINT OF THE AGED 

The only friend that has not changed 
Through all life's surging sea, 

Is He who walked beneath His cross 
The road to Calvary. 



'Tis not the world that's changed, my friend, 

'Tis not the world, 'tis you, 
The rose is just as fair as then, 

The sky is just as blue. 

The linnet's song is just as sweet, 

God's love is just as true; 
'Tis not the world that's changed, my friend; 

'Tis not the world; 'tis you. 



DEAD SUMMER 

Now the Summer dead is resting 
Folded in her shroud of snow; 

Gone are all her bright companions 
Who had loved her long ago. 

Roses dead that died with Summer, 
Now are buried by her side, 

And the Winter sky is mourning 
O'er his fair departed bride. 

And the cricket fain would linger, 
For her last, lone-fading ray; 

Lies he stiff, all cold and frozen, 
Caught by Winter on the way. 

And the earth she loved and cherished 
That she dressed in velvet green, 

Turned her, smiling, to King Winter 
With his robe of frosty sheen. 

Pure and cold the hills are wearing 
Mantles soft and white as down, 

And the mountain tops are gleaming 
With a shining silver crown. 
23 



24 DEAD SUMMER 

Cold and still beneath its armor, 
Silent runs the laughing stream, 

Slain by Winter's frosty sceptre 
Like the fairy Summer queen. 

And the proud king smiles and whispers, 
Whispers with his icy breath: 

"1 have conquered. Nature's sleeping 
Now the pale, cold sleep of death." 



REGRETS 

No day will ever be as fair, 

The sun will never shine 
As bright as when you walked with me 

Beside the River Rhine. 

And time will come and time will go, 

But hope and love are dead; 
No scene will change my heart's pulse now, 

Or flush my pale cheeks red. 

To you that wander far away 

Beyond the shining sea, 
The world has charms, but ah ! alas ! 

Life's hopes are dead for me. 

And now I'm standing all alone, 

Wrapped in the mellow light 
Of setting sun and rising moon. 

Good night, dead hopes, good night. 

25 



SONNET— TO M. B. 

Full many a time and oft I've walked alone 
Beneath the glories of a moonlit, starlit sky, 
And heard the breezes in the branches sigh 
And struggled to interpret their sad tone. 
And when my heart is sad and weary grown, 
They seem to understand and tell me why 
1 wander. And my spirit seems to cry 
Beneath a burden that is all its own. 
But when the prestige of a soul like thine 
Doth show itself in gentle, soothing word, 
I lose all thought of this small soul of mine 
In sweet enjoyment of what I have heard, 
And seem to wait but for a single sign 
To tell the thoughts within my spirit stirred. 
26 



THE LITTLE GRAY BIRD. 

O, little gray bird, why linger you here ? 

Your comrades have all southward flown. 
The north winds now blow, the sky's dark and 

drear. 
O, why do you linger alone ? 
The leaves are all fallen, the limbs brown and 

bare, 
No shelter for you from the cold, wintry air. 
O, little gray bird, why tarry so long ? 
Only the Winter winds echo your song. 
The nest that you built with such cunning and 

care 
Swings now from a limb in the chill, frosty air. 
You're pluming your wings, you'll soon say 

good-bye 
To the nest swinging loose beneath the dark sky. 
Good-bye, little bird, you're off and away. 
Return with the rose in sweet, smiling May. 
17 



THE RIVER 

With a rush and a roar and a gurgle 

The river comes tumbling down, 
From the dark gorges deep in the mountain, 

By meadow, cottage and town. 
Swiftly on through the sunshine and shadow, 

On through the shadow and shine, 
With a murmur as soft as a love-song 

Kissing the roots of the pine. 

Slowly curling and darting and dancing, 

Under the foot of the hill, 
Pausing a moment to fondle the wheel 

In the old moss-covered mill. 
And thus, life-like, this swift-rushing current 

Sweeps to eternity's shore, 
Like a storm-driven ship on the ocean 

That sinks to rise nevermore. 
28 



THE FACE AT THE ATTIC WINDOW 

A face at an attic window, 

Above the dusty street, 
Had caught my wand'ring glances. 

The face was passing sweet. 
The dainty, dimpled fingers 

Upon the window-pane — 
But now, when I am passing, 

I look for them in vain. 

I climbed the creaking stairway, 

Far o'er the noisy street, 
To the little attic window 

Whence the face looked down so sweet, 
Where never a ray of sunlight 

Fell with its cheering grace, 
I found a fair, sweet infant 

Drooping within the place. 

1 asked this dainty baby 
What gift that I should bring. 

In sweetly lisping accents: 

"Would like some flowers of Spring." 
29 



30 THE FACE AT THE ATTIC WINDOW 

My heart was touched with pity 

For the little infant there, 
That ne'er enjoyed life's sunshine, 

Or gazed on meadows fair. 

1 went to keep my promise — 

The promise I had made — 
I brought the fairest flowers 

That bloomed within the glade. 
With heart o'erfull with yearning 

And hasty steps I sped — 
My flowers decked its coffin. 

The little one was dead ! 

The face at the attic window, 

To me so passing fair, 
From earth has been transplanted 

Among God's blossoms rare, 
And to a harp all golden 

'Twill with the angels sing. 
Oh! There's room enough in Heaven 

For the flowers that bloom in Spring. 



AUTUMN 

With stately step and downcast eye, 

Wrapped in her robe of mist, 
Now Autumn treads the mountain side, 

Which Summer's sun has kissed. 
The leaves fall gently, one by one, 

All in a golden heap, 
To cover up the mossy mound 

Where star-eyed daisies sleep. 

The naked limbs make shadows long, 

Beneath the evening sun, 
Like vanguards of the Autumn Queen 

To tell that Summer's done. 
The fruit hangs heavy on the trees, 

Full is the farmer's barn; 
The good wife sits beside the hearth 

And winds her colored yarn. 

And onward moves the Autumn Queen, 

So mildly sweet and fair, 
Like a saintly nun with chaplet beads 

Saying her evening prayer. 
And' so the fair, sweet Autumn now 

Is passing out of sight; 
A little songster on the limb 

Trills her a sad "Good night." 
3i 



THE OUTCAST 

The sweet remembrance of my childhood years 
Goes tripping by me with twofold grace. 

Now that my life has been baptized in tears 
My feet on earth have found no resting-place. 

Beneath the glory of a mellow moon 

I watch the phantom shadows come and go, 

But they, alas! have vanished all too soon, 
And left me but in dreariness and woe. 

Oh ! would the voice that calmed wild Galilee, 
And bade the waves and hurricane be still, 

Would whisper words of comfort unto me, 
And grant me grace to do His holy will. 
32 



''THY WILL BE DONE" 

We kneel upon the altar stone, 

And humbly bow our heads in prayer, 

And say, "Oh, Lord ! Thy will be done," 
And mean it only while we're there. 

But when Thy kindly hand is laid 
With chastening touch upon our head, 

And through a mist of tears we gaze 
Upon our own beloved dead, 

With choking sobs and swelling heart, 
And pallid, tear-stained cheek, 

The quiv'ring lips rebelliously 

Try hard those patient words to speak. 

And kneeling by the new-made grave, 
Beneath the shining marble stone, 

With grieving heart say brokenly: 

"O Lord ! Thy will, not mine, be done. 
33 



WANDERING 
A SUMMER IDYL 

Come with me, I am free, 

We will wander far away: 

Away from the city's dust and din, 
Away from the haunts of crime and sin, 

That meet your gaze from day to day. 

Come with me, 1 am free. 

We will wander far away: 

Away from the city's toil and strife, 
The war that's waged for light and life; 
Away from the greedy, grasping hold 
The miser has on his shining gold; 
Away from the sights of the city's street, 
The tattered beggar with bleeding feet; 
Away from the rich in robes so warm, 
Who'd pass him by in the driving storm. 

Come with me, 1 am free, 

We will wander far away: 

Up the mountain's sloping side, 
Far through forests dim and wide; 
By the river's sedgy bank- 
Where the reeds grow tall and rank, 
34 



WANDERING 35 

O'er the meadow, through the glen, 
Far from noisy haunts of men; 
Neath the leaves where wild birds sing 
And flowers bloom in the smile of Spring. 

Come with me, 1 am free, 

We will wander far away, 

And rest within some sylvan grove, 
Where word-nymphs sing their songs of love; 
Where laughing streams from mountain hearts 
Sweep down its sides like silver darts. 

Come with me, we are free, 
Free to wander where we list, 
On ocean's sands, thro' valley's mist, 
Neath rugged rocks where chamois stood 
And eagles rear their fierce wild brood. 
The velvet moss our carpets be, 
God's azure sky our canopy. 

Come with me, we are free, 

We will wander far away: 

By limpid pools whose purple breasts 
The water lilies rock and rest, 
The dragon fly with flash and dart 
Finds rest in the lily's golden heart. 

Come with me, we are free. 



DECEMBER 

A stretch of light below the gray, 

Then leaden clouds come flying fast, 
And throw dark shadows on the earth 

Like gloomy spectres gliding past. 
And now and then a feeble ray 

Of light falls on the earth below, 
And one by one the stars peep out 

And smile down on her robes of snow 

3 6 



OCTOBER 

The Autumn is upon us 

With sear and yellow leaf, 
The tassel's fallen from the corn, 

The wheat is in the sheaf. 

The smoky haze of Autumn 

Hangs low upon the hill; 
The brook assumes a darker hue, 

The choristers are still. 

Where rang the woods with music 
Their songs are heard no more. 

They've sought a fairer clime than this 
Till Winter storms are o'er. 

The leaves that were so tender 

In russet heaps now lie; 
The trees wave naked limbs aloft 

Beneath a lowering sky. 

October winds sweep by us, 
The flower hides its head, 
37 



38 OCTOBER 

The sad winds whisper as they pass 
That Summer-time is dead. 

Violet and daisy sleep 
Beneath the frost-chilled sod; 

They're waiting for the voice of Spring 
As we the voice of God. 



AT THE PORTALS 

'Tvvas night. The moon had risen, 

The stars like angel-eyes 
Beheld a world in slumbers 

'Neath purple- vaulted skies. 

An Angel at the portals 

In sheen of golden light 
Smiled down through misty stillness 

Upon the world that night. 

A flash of golden pinions 

Athwart the purple skies, 
Like the lightning of a comet 

It met the wand'rer's eyes. 

A weary watcher murmured: 
"The night already done ? 

Is the light that's gleaming round me 
The newly risen sun ?" 

The Angel softly whispered: 
"It is thy Father's will." 
39 



40 AT THE PORTALS 

He kissed the pallid forehead— 
The troubled heart was still, 



A sound of song and cymbals, 
As swung the Portals wide, 

Whence one had just departed 
Two entered side by side. 



BENEATH THE OCEAN WAVE 

I've gone down through the waves of the ocean, 

I have gazed on its emerald bed, 
I have looked on its wide, boundless treasure, 

Stood aghast at its numberless dead. 
'Neath the shining, pink leaves of the coral 

Fast asleep lies the sailor boy fair, 
And the mermaids have woven a garland 

Of sea-weed to crown his bright hair. 

There are ships on the bed of the ocean 

That have sailed out so grandly to the sea, 
Bearing out from the shores they were leaving 

Many lives to a dread destiny, 
And the sea-shells are rocking and rolling, 

And are sounding a dirge for the dead, 
While the maiden and mother are waiting 

For the lost in their coffin less bed. 

There are isles in the heart of the ocean 
That are swept by the wild, surging waves, 

Rocks of jasper and coral and amber 
Where the sea-nymphs their shining forms lave; 
4i 



42 BENEATH THE OCEAN WAVE 

And the waters are shifting; and sparkling 
Over spars that are broken and brown, 

And caressing the brow of the sailor 
Who was true to his ship — and went down, 

And the sea-weed swings loose from the main- 
mast, 

Like fair banners flung out to the breeze 
That are swept by the slow, rocking motion 

Of the waves on the bed of the seas. 
All of this I have seen while in dreamland, 

And I woke with a start of affright 
To the rush and the roar of breakers 

On the shore in the dead of the night. 



MY STAR 

Over the hill-tops blue and far, 

Beyond the clouds so gray, 
I caught the glimmer of a star 

At the close of a Summer day. 

Diamond-like in a lonely sky 

It sparkled and twinkled and shone. 

My heart was sad as I thought of a soul 
That only I had known. 

That soul had left me long ago, 
'Twas sad that he should die, 

I wondered — for it seemed since then 
That star was in the sky. 
43 



MY PICTURE 

Deep down in my heart I have hidden 

A picture so sweet and so fair, 
Away from the world's cruel glances, 

Far from its insolent stare. 
My picture has hair long and golden, 

And eyes of the uttermost blue, 
And a face like the face of an angel, 

With tints of the fair roses' hue. 

No rude eye has gazed on my treasure, 

So carefully hidden from sight; 
And none but myself and the angels 

Have gazed on its radiance bright. 
And when I am done with life's journey. 

When hither no longer 1 roam, 
I shall see that sweet face in my picture 

Of mother to welcome me home. 
44 



DRIFTING WITH THE TIDE 

Down the mountain's sloping side, 

By fern, and briar, and pine, 
By rugged rocks, through forests dark, 

I see the river shine. 
Down with the current drifting, 

A dainty craft I see; 
In the boat a maiden fair 

Is sitting listlessly. 

That frail bark is like my life, 

My youth the shining river 
That, drifting to the stormy sea, 

Returns again, oh, never! 
Hopes that with the morning dawned 

Had faded with the gloaming, 
Tossed like that dainty little craft 

That down the stream came roaming. 

Fortune, like that maiden fair 

Within the boat reclining, 
Has proved to be as false as fair, 

Who leaves her love repining, 
On we glide, my boat and I, 

Down the shining river, 
Drifting with the ebb and flow, 

Drifting on forever. 
45 



TO G. S. F. 

O thou sweet brother of my boyhood's heart, 
Thou boon companion of my youthful joys, 
Must we as men, from what we knew as boys 
In deep soul-sadness e'en so early part ? 

Long, long the hours seem without the grace 
Of thy sweet, youthful presence to my soul, 
And even Time in sadness seems to dole, 
Upon each thing thou knew'st, each word, each 
place. 

Why is it, God of might, that ne'er we know, 
Until our soul's joy is above with thee, 
How deep the current of true love may be, 
How deeper far the darkness of our woe ? 

The wailing bells peal out upon the air, 

And pierce my heart-caves with their grieving 

knell; 
Ah ! why can not my words, my vain tears tell 
How deep my heart will hold thine image fair ? 

Why could we not have spoke one last farewell ? 
Why need 1 drive myself so near despair ? 

4 6 



TO G. S. F. 47 

Art thou, thou e'en my Lycidas, aware 

How my poor heart and soul for thee do swell ? 

'Twas but a few short hours — ah mem'ry sweet- 
When we in boyish pleasures were conjoined; 
Ah ! Fate thou hast my treasure now purloined, 
And not until hearafter will we meet. 

Hereafter ? We will meet ? Ah thou good God, 
Thou bring'st some little comfort to my heart, 
E'en dearest souls must once in sorrow part, 
To be united far beyond the sod. 

See'st thou me now, my joy, in Paradise ? 
See'st thou how swells my heart in bitter grief ? 
Of earth this sadness e'er will be a fief, 
But God in heaven will dry the weeping eyes ! 



A REMEMBRANCE 

A little one whose life was like 

Some fair, bright tlow'r in May, 
Just oped his pansy eyes on earth. 

Then vanished quick away. 
Now sleeps he in his far-off grave 

Beneath the prairie sod, 
Where early daisies o'er it bloom 

Strewn by the hand of God. 
48 



THE SOUTH WIND 

I'm waiting for the south wind 
To wake the flow'rs from rest, 

To break the icy bondage 
Above the brooklet's breast; 

To whisper to the vi'lets 
That sleep so cold and low, 

Within their earthly chamber, 
Beneath their robes of snow. 

To make the soft leaves glisten, 
And tender catkins spring. 

O, South Wind, do not linger, 
Now usher in the Spring, 

Come sighing down the valley, 

And stir the frozen air, 
And where thy feet have lingered 

Will bloom in beauty rare, 

Just breathe upon the forests, 
And leaf and bud will bloom; 

They're waiting for thy coming, 
To drive away the gloom. 
49 



50 THE SOUTH WIND 

Come softly o'er the mountains, 

Like a bird upon the wing. 
O, South Wind, do not tarry, 

Now usher in the Spring. 
I hear thy soft breath sighing 

Among the apple trees; 
I see the swallows flitting 

Beneath the drooping eaves. 

The flowers look up sweetly 

From out the soft new grass, 
The buttercups are nodding 

So gaily as 1 pass. 
1 hear a songster's carol, 

The rustle of a wing. 
Oh! Welcome, welcome, South Wind- 

For thou hast brought the Spring. 



FALLING LEAVES 

Purple and gold and crimson, 
Crimson and gold and brown, 

Stirred by a scented zephyr 

The leaves come flutt'ring down. 

Down on the mottled mossbed, 

Down to the earth so low, 
So soon to form a pillow 

For softly drifting snow. 

Silently, softly falling 

Like dew from a Summer sky, 
Like tears on a loved one's tombstone, 

So light on the ground they lie. 

The great, brown arms that bore them 
Bend, loving, down and grieve 

Over the glist'ning billows 
Of faded Summer leaves. 

Crimson and gold and purple, 
Yellow and crimson and brown, 

Flying hither and thither 
Cov'ring the frozen ground, 
5i 



52 FALLING LEAVES 

In golden heaps they're lying, 
In woodland and in glen, 

Rustling low to the southwind 
Stirred by robin and wren. 

So, softly our lives are passing 
Light as a falling leaf, 

To be garnered by the Reaper 
Into a golden sheaf. 



HOPE 

When the work of Autum is complete, 

When winter has begun, 
When the golden sun is seldom seen, 

When summer time is done, 
When many hearts in deep despair 

In lonely darkness grope, 
Let each Pandora's casket seek, 

And still within find Hope. 

That Hope which comforts many hearts, 

And sweet soul-solace brings, 
And to the suffering spirit sad 

A song of comfort sings, 
Has brightened many darkened lives 

As buds from winter ope, 
And many from a gloomy path 

Have been brought back by hope. 

So when our fortunes are adverse, 

When sorrow rules our hearts, 
When winter winds are keen and fierce 

And chill us with their darts, 
And when our hearts in deep despair, 

As if for sunlight, grope, 
Then let us join each hand in hand 

And onward strive — and hope. 
53 



A SEA SONG 

The maiden wept as she said farewell 

To her love on a summer day, 
As over the deep with a graceful sweep 

The good ship sailed away. 
'Round scented isles where sunlight smiles, 

The ship sailed to the main, 
And the maid may wait for her love at the gate 

But he never will come again. 

For the mermaids fair combed their bright hair, 

On the coral reefs that day, 
And sang and smiled to the hurricane wild 

Amidst its foam and spray. 
And flashing across the shining seas 

The vessel sped along, 
To the coral isle where the mermaid smiles 

And chants her fatal song. 

The maid may weep and watch the deep 

For the ship that's away so long, 
But her love's at rest 'neath the ocean's breast, 

Where the mermaids sang their song. 

54 



A SEA SONG 55 

And with fingers cold his locks of gold 
They twine while they laugh in glee, 

And rock him to sleep where the sea-mews weep 
'Neath the shade of the pink coral tree. 



And the maid may weep, but her love will sleep 

Deep in his watery tomb, 
And the mermaids will smile on the coral isle 

And lure the ship to its doom. 



NIGHT 

The sun had sunk behind the hills, 

'Twas hidden from my sight, 
The soft gray tints of eventide 

Had deepened into night, 
And only a crimson billow 

Flecked here and there the sky; 
Like frowns on the face of Heaven 

They met the wanderer's eye. 

Far overhead the azure sky 

Was gemmed with silver light, 
The stars angel fingers fair 

Held back the robe of Night. 
The Angel of Rest had spoken, 

All things obeyed his will; 
He looked upon the pulsing world 

And lo! the earth was still, 

56 



THE VESPER BELLS 

Autumn has painted the mountains 
Crimson and gold and brown, 

And golden rays of setting sun 
Are falling on the town. 

And at my feet all purple lies 
The bay in evening light, 

And here add there a sea-gull swift 
Dips low with soft wings white. 

And back to me comes stealing soft 

The past in dreamy spells, 
And on the evening air there breaks 

The peals of vesper bells. 
The waves are softly lapping now 

The gray sand at my feet 
The vesper bells come ringing low 

To me with mem'ries sweet. 

Within my heart, O vesper bells, 

Ye ring both night and day, 
In dreamy cadence take me back 

To my home so far away. 
Away from hills with crimson tints, 

Afar from ocean's spells 
Where first I heard you sounding low, 

O sweet-toned vesper bells. 
57 



A WINTER NIGHT 

Oh ! how eerie is the feeling, 

When I listen all alone, 
To the storm that's sweeping by me, 

With a wail and sigh and moan. 

While it taps with ghostly fingers 
At the window pane and door, 

Or comes whirling down the chimney 
With a sullen, angry roar. 

And the flames make phantom shadows 
On the pale and whitewashed wall, 

Dancing time to mystic music 
Sounding down the wind-swept hall. 

Now their phantom feet go flying 

Swiftly o'er the attic floor, 
Now they clatter down the stairway, 

Now they shake the great hall door. 

While I sit alone and listen 

To the storm, in silent fear, 
Comes a gleam through trembling lattice 

Of a star that's shining clear. 

58 



A WINTER NIGHT 59 

Rising from a fleecy cloud-bed, 

Comes the pale moon shining bright, 

Looking on the still earth, smiling, 
Like a bride in robes of white. 

Now the fire burns dim before me, 

And the shadow dance is done, 
Silently they're disappearing 

In the darkness, one by one. 

Now the wind has ceased its wailing 

At the door and window pane; 
Clasping white robes to her bosom, 

Rests the earth in peace again. 






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